Oscar.

the very real pleasure that one gets from the combination of their two greatest loves in lifes is indescribable. though, myself being who i am, i will try and put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard as it were, about the sheer unadulterated enjoyment that was this year academy awards.

i am, to put it finely, just slightly obsessed with the world of cinema. i have seriously humiliated myself in front of many actors and actresses, simply because i have been too stunned to contemplate the fact that people who are such a point of adoration and shining light for me could possibly exist in flesh and blood, perhaps within touching distance of me. it tends to drop the jaw and raise the eyebrows, to put it mildly.

i am also, as you may have noticed, just a little obsessed with the wonderful wonderful world of fashion. now, more than ever, we are seeing the amazing transformative power of fashion as marc jacobs showcases bright neons in an attempt to be the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel during these hard economic times.

Couture, and the imaginative world that it often conjures, is one end of the fashion spectrum that for one blissful moment (well, you know what i mean, obviously one season), ties in so perfectly with my other love. And that moment is the Academy Awards.

I am one of those sad people who actually watches the red carpet show, and not just to hear the designer brand names read out in crisp seacrest pronunciation like gunshots, but rather to watch, eyes slightly glazed over, as dresses that i thought only existed in those temples of desire and unatainability, yes i am talking about VOGUE here, sashay down not a runway, but somethign infinitely more glamorous if that is at all possible: the red carpet. Clinging so beautiful, draping so effortless, dripping so sensuously off every curve (or indeed, in jolie's case, lack thereof) of these actresses who not only possess the type of figure that can fill out a dress in the way that a model just can't, but possessing also of the type of showstopping face that made them a model in the first place.

Fashion shows are all well and good, but the red carpet is like seeing poetry in motion. Words that seemed beautiful, and creative, and innovative on the page are suddenly transformed into moving images that talk and swish and swan like, well, i hate to say it, movie stars.

Unfortunately i am unable to attach pictures to this post, although believe you me, pictures will follow. Needless to say Penelope Cruz, an actress who really should just always be called a woman, for she embodies everything a modern woman is: intelligent, funny, powerful, passionate, beautiful and so unbelievably sensual, was a favourite. In vintage Balmain (who would have thought?) she showed that she also has fashion crededentials to go with that lilting spanish accent and the face that was made for an artist to love.

Another favourite, amy adams, resplendent in red, looking as if she was born to wear that colour. Nicole Kidman, despite having done horridious things to her face wearing a feathery, sparkly, wondrously infectious confection that was pure imagination distilled into dress form. Natalie Portman in a soft, but still powerful, an understated power indeed, dress by Rodarte.

Enough of that, you probably all watched the show or have seen the pictures by now, and enough has been said about all the usuals. Adding my own opinion seems pointless. And indeed, there isn't much point to this post at all, other than to let me just expound about how happy the show made me feel.

Did you feel the same? I'm not sure if it was the effect that the producers were going for, but i suppose in hard times likes ours making people smile seems the pre-requisite of almost anything that happens nowadays. Rather than subtly jibe hollywood, exposing its flaws and the flaws of those within it, the show was more a celebration of that wonderful business that really is the stuff of dreams: a celebration not only of the actors and actresses to whom most of the glory falls, but also the screenwriters, the make up artists, the sound mixers, the directors, the cinematographers... as Hugh Jackman, the host with the most, and looking so dashing in a tux (its almost enough to make me patriotic!) 'they dont just make costumes/sets/sounds/etc..... they make movies.'

Perhaps i am old-fashioned. But to me there is a certain joy to be found in movie-going. Sure the cinema is comparitively less expensive, there is much more choice and the experience is more widespread, thus lessening its exclusivity and therefore wonder... but is that necessarily a bad thing? just because something is 'available' doesn't make it any less valuable. The movies are, in times like these, one of the most pleasurable forms of escapism for all, and they don't discriminate: they are there for all. Which can only be a good thing.

If you, unlike me, don't squeal when the trailers start because you are just so damn excited to find out what's going to be next on your list of films to see, or you dont sit in raptures, your eyes glued to the screen in awe/ecstasy/exhilaration/despair/thrill... then perhaps you will not agree. Perhaps you seek your pleasures elsewhere. each to his own. But for me the movies are, and will always be, something lovely.

and combined with the distinctly old-fashioned glamour of awards shows, which includes the flashing jewels, the long sweeping gowns, the up-dos, the tuxedos, the crisp white shirts and little clutches clasped in red-stained fingers… Well, it becomes truly magical.

X

ps. in new york! almost home! can't wait to get back and share with you all my shopping finds and my stories. hope you are all well!
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